


Avengers Christmas

by ProximaShining



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cat Loki (Marvel), Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProximaShining/pseuds/ProximaShining
Summary: On Christmas 2023 the remaining Avengers assemble once again - to spend the holidays at Tony Stark’s lake house. Happy reunions, surprise guests, and a familiar-looking mischievous cat. What more can you wish for? Perhaps a Christmas miracle or two?
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

_“I am... inevitable.”_

_“And I... am... Iron Man.”_

_A mere second ago the power of the stones coursing through his body was an inferno that put all his nerve endings on fire, but as soon as he snapped his fingers, the pain was gone. Tony just felt terribly, overwhelmingly tired. His body was heavier than a ton of bricks, his muscles were like jelly and he was unable to stay upright. He needed to sit down, to just rest for a moment... He collapsed against a piece of wreckage with all the grace of a newborn as all his strength left him._

_Even turning his head was too much effort, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter. The kid was talking, but Tony couldn’t concentrate on his words. He just sat there quietly and marveled at the sight of Peter in the Iron Spider Armor he’d created for him, alive and hale. His boy was alright, he survived. Nothing else mattered._

_Pepper’s face appeared in his field of vision and Tony’s eyes focused on her for a brief moment. All he could think of was how beautiful his wife was and how right it felt that her face should be the last thing he would ever—_

Someone grabbed his arm and shook hard.

“Don’t sleep, Daddy!”

Tony jerked awake, the image of the battlefield melting into the familiar shapes of his lake house around him. He was seated on the sofa in his living room, dressed in the comfortable (but still classy) clothes he liked to wear at home. Cheerful music was playing, he recognized the lazy tune of Jingle Bell Rock. The air smelled of gingerbread and chocolate, he could hear snippets of quiet conversation somewhere nearby. Thanos was nowhere in sight. 

Groggy and disoriented, Tony looked up to see his little daughter staring at him with a dissatisfied frown on her face.

“You’re supposed to sample our cookies,” Morgan said, sounding just as strict as Pepper usually did when she berated him about something he’d messed up. “Don’t slack off.”

She wore an apron with the picture of Iron Man on the front, but despite that, she had somehow managed to smear flour and other unidentifiable baking ingredients all over her clothes, face, and even hair.

Tony shook his head to make sense of his surroundings, but thankfully the initial confusion was already passing.

He had fallen asleep on the sofa.

A dream. It had been just a dream. 

_No_ , his brain supplied, _a flashback_.

The battle had been real. But it’d happened months ago. 

They had won.

Thanos was dead - and Tony was not.

Sure, he’d had to spend what felt like at least a thousand years in a hospital, but now he was finally back home, right in time for the Christmas holidays. Although the Wakandan doctors weren’t particularly happy about it. He suspected that, given the chance, they would have never parted with their favorite guinea pig.

“Sorry, Maguna,” Tony sheepishly accepted the plate with cookies with his left hand. His right one was still unresponsive, although now, after extensive therapy, he could at least feel it a little when someone touched him. The doctors were optimistic that he should be able to regain at least partial use of the hand with time, but for the foreseeable future, he would have to function as a leftie.

“I made these and Nate made the brown ones,” Morgan explained, pointing at the different cookies on the plate. They were slightly misshapen, and one of them looked a bit burned.

Tony dutifully took one of the cookies made by his daughter and munched on it.

“Mmm…” he made a thoughtful face and then grinned. “The best cookie ever!”

“You must test Nate’s too,” Morgan insisted and pushed some brown cookies his way.

He was glad to see her with children her own age. Thanks to the Snap, she and the youngest Barton offspring were now peers, and although they’ve only met a few times after the Blip, they quickly became friends.

“Tired?” Pepper materialized next to Tony, a mug of hot chocolate in her hand and a concerned expression on her face.

“No,” Tony lied. When she subjected him to her patented ‘I-recognize-your-bullshit’ stare, he admitted, “Maybe a little.”

His opinion was that he’d slept enough while he was in a coma, but his body had other ideas and made him fall asleep at the most inconvenient times. The constant tiredness was super annoying.

“I have it on good authority that you have time for a quick nap,” Pepper smiled. “Happy just called, it’ll take them at least an hour to get here.”

“What about you two? No need for some extra beauty sleep?” Tony used his good hand to pull Pepper down beside him on the sofa and leaned conspiratorially towards her belly. “Mummy works too much, she should rest more. With daddy.”

They hadn’t known Pepper was pregnant when Tony had embarked on the time heist. Both of them had believed her to be too old to conceive naturally. But she did, and soon Tony and Pepper were going to welcome a new baby into the family. Too impatient to wait for birth to learn the gender of his new offspring, Tony already knew they were expecting a boy this time. When he imagined how close he came that day to losing it all - just a little less luck and he would have never met his son...

“Is this a proposition, Mr. Stark?” Pepper purred, leaning into his embrace and canceling any negative thoughts going through his head. “We have guests in the house.”

“I want to nap with Daddy too!” Morgan immediately climbed into Tony’s lap, effectively eliminating the possibility of any amorous shenanigans taking place under her watchful eye.

“Family nap it is,” Tony announced with a wide grin. “But first - _family_ _cuddle_!”

Morgan squealed and Pepper laughed when he squished them all together into one big happy heap. With his wife and daughter in his arms, Tony couldn’t think of a more perfect place to be. What has he ever done to deserve this?


	2. Chapter 2

Peter Parker couldn’t sit still. The nearer the car got to the Starks’ cabin, the more his fidgeting worsened. His legs trembled, the palms of his hands were wet with sweat, his breath was uneven... This was almost worse than asking MJ on a date!

Today was the first time he would get to see Mr. Stark after several months. Last time his mentor had been lying on a hospital bed in a coma and looking like he’d just barely survived a nuclear explosion. Happy had told Peter he was better now ( _better_ , not _well_ , Peter could clearly read the meaning between the lines) but today he would finally get to see the state of Mr. Stark’s health for himself.

People kept saying he’d saved Mr. Stark’s life.

While everyone was just standing around and staring at the dying Iron Man in shock, Peter had snapped into action. He used his own nano armor to pull the Infinity Stones one after another off Mr. Stark’s damaged hand and safely set them aside, all except the Time Stone. With the green glowing stone in his grip, he had intended to reverse the time for Mr. Stark, to revert his body to its pre-snap state and cure his injuries that way. But all he’d managed was to freeze him in some kind of time stasis, so that his body temporarily stopped shutting down. Dr. Strange had proclaimed the Stones wouldn’t allow anything more, that they demanded a sacrifice as a payment for using them to snap away Thanos’ forces. He’d even praised Peter’s quick thinking.

Peter still felt like a failure.

Everyone else had made so much more. Dr. Strange created a portal to Wakanda. Mr. Rhodes carried Mr. Stark through it in his arms. Princess Shuri assembled a team of medical specialists in zero time and made sure Mr. Stark had the best care available in one of the Wakandan futuristic-looking hospitals. Thor and the Guardians even went into space and brought back a bunch of doctors from some far-away planet who specialized in the healing of radiation injuries, along with a cargo hold full of incredible alien medical tech.

In comparison, Peter had barely done little more than twiddle his thumbs. He couldn’t make Mr. Stark better, he just didn’t make him any worse.

What if everyone has been lying to him about Mr. Stark’s improved condition? What if the man actually looked terrible? Peter imagined his mentor in a wheelchair, or worse yet on a bed, completely immobile and breathing through a tube. What if he blamed Peter? Maybe the invitation was a mistake. Or a way to tell Peter in person just how disappointed he was in him?

“And here we are,” Happy’s voice sounded from behind the wheel just as a wooden house came into view. It was surrounded by trees, and behind it, the surface of a lake glittered in the afternoon light.

Peter gulped. His hands suddenly felt a hundred times clammier.

Happy parked his car next to a large pickup and a smaller sedan, got out, and walked around to open the door for them.

Aunt May exited first, then turned back to Peter and said, “Leave the presents in the car. Happy will carry them inside later, so the children won’t see them.”

Peter looked at the pile of festively wrapped parcels laid next to him on the backseat and sighed. Why couldn’t he come up with better presents? Aunt May had said they were fine, that the Starks had even explicitly told them not to bring any gifts, but Peter knew she was just humoring him. He’d wanted something impressive, something that would kick Mr. Stark off his feet and show him how much he meant to Peter. And what did he get? An ‘Avengers Forever’ Lego set for little Morgan, a pink shawl for Mrs. Stark, and a dark red tie for Mr. Stark. A bloody _tie_! How lame was that? Sure, he was on a tight budget, but Mr. Stark probably owned hundreds of ties. What has he been thinking?

After another heartfelt sigh, Peter got out of the car and dragged his feet towards the house. The wraparound porch was decked with Christmas decorations but nothing kitschy or over the top. Just enough to make the place look festive and homey. If he didn't know better, he would have never guessed this was the home of a billionaire.

Peter didn’t make more than a couple of steps before someone jumped right in front of him from behind a nearby bush. For a moment it baffled Peter that his Spidey-sense didn’t warn him of any danger, but then he noticed the ‘attacker’ barely came to his waist. Dressed in purple leggings and a pink sweater, with their face hidden behind Iron Man’s traditional red and gold helmet, the would-be Avenger attempted to take up a menacing stance.

“Stand still, trespasser!” a young voice called, slightly distorted by the helmet’s faceplate. “State your business or prepare to face the mighty Iron Girl!”

Another child jumped from behind the very same bush to stand next to his friend - also with an Iron Man helmet on their head but in a different color scheme - and aimed their ‘repulsors’ (really just leather mittens) at Peter.

One of the kids had to be Morgan Stark - Peter only saw her once and very briefly in the Wakandan hospital Mr. Stark had been brought to after the battle. But back then she had been just a silent tiny thing hiding behind her mother, sad because someone had badly hurt her daddy. Peter liked this joyful and energetic version of her much better.

“Hi Iron Girl and… sidekick,” he said with as serious an expression as he could manage while facing the two ‘heroes’. “I’m Peter Parker and I’ve been invited to this humble abode by Tony Stark for the holidays.”

“Fine, you may pass,” ‘Iron Girl’ said imperiously and stepped aside.

“I’m not a sidekick,” the second child protested, “I’m Iron Hawk!”

“More trespassers at three o’clock!” yelled ‘Iron Girl’ and both she and her companion ignored Peter as they ran around him towards Happy and May.

Happy’s expression as the children neared him was so comical that Peter had to laugh. When he turned away, however, the smile froze on his face because standing by the farther end of the porch was...

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s legs started towards the man of their own volition. “You look... normal!” After imagining the worst for such a long time, it was almost a shock to see no bandages, braces, or other medical equipment on his mentor. Even the part of his face that had suffered the most radiation damage was now healthy-looking, although the skin there was of a slightly different color than the rest - maybe a graft? “I mean fine. More than fine. Great! You look great! Just like your old self. Not that I think you’re old because you totally aren’t—”

“Hey, hey, kid, slow down,” Mr. Stark took pity on him and interrupted his awkward babbling. “It’s good to see you too.” And he took advantage of the fact that Peter was now standing right in front of him, made a single step forward, and enveloped him in a hug.

Peter clung to him like his life depended on it, and maybe it sort of did. Mr. Stark has become such an important part of his life in such a short time - just imagining how close they came to him being gone forever was making Peter’s insides doing unhappy flip-flops. Anyway, Mr. Stark wasn’t the kind of person who would hug you at every available opportunity, so Peter had to make it count. In his arms, he felt safe and loved...

Wait...

Not arms.

One arm.

Mr. Stark was using only one arm to hug him. Which wouldn’t be all that strange if his other arm - his dominant one - didn’t just lie limp and useless by his side, like a dead fish. Just as Peter contemplated it, he heard a suspicious ‘crunch’.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to squish you,” he let go at once and jumped away. Did he break some bone with his super strength? Mr. Stark wasn’t wearing his Iron Man suit, and when you took away all that advanced nano armor, he was just an ordinary human underneath. Fragile, easily breakable.

“Oh, this?” Mr. Stark rapped with the knuckles of his left hand on the back of his right hand, and Peter realized that what he’d thought to be a glove was in fact some kind of porous metal. Mr. Stark rolled up his sleeve, revealing a metallic-looking cast. “It’s actually pretty durable. Space alloy. I want to call it N.E.R.K. but Doctor Cho insists on ‘neural regenerator’. One of the space docs brought it from a planet whose name I can’t pronounce, and she adapted it to human physiology. I have to wear it for a year and then my arm will be as good as new. In theory.” The device was skintight and had to encompass his entire arm and shoulder - now that Peter looked closely, he could see parts of it peeking from under Mr. Stark’s collar.

The scientist in Peter reared his head. “How does it work? Does it make your nerves regenerate faster? Or create completely new nerve paths? Or—“

Mr. Stark gave him a knowing smile. “I have blueprints and an extra regenerator is sitting in my lab right now, ready for tinkering. We could sneak out after dinner and have a proper look at it. Interested?”

“Wow! Really?” Doing anything with Mr. Stark (especially in his lab!) felt like a real treat - but then Peter remembered where he was right now and it was as though someone doused him with cold water. He spoke with hesitation. “You’re spending time with your family and friends, I shouldn’t monopolize—”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Stark gestured with his good arm. “Who told you you’re not family?”

“...What?” The gears in Peter’s brain came to a screeching halt. Mr. Stark couldn’t possibly mean what he thought he’s just heard him say, could he?

“Listen,” Mr. Stark tried to spread his arms but only one of them responded. He glanced at the other one with a small frown, then turned back at Peter as though nothing happened. “Maybe it felt like I’ve been holding you at arm’s length in the past, but that’s because I was worried about you - you’re so young, and being an Avenger is dangerous business. But now that you’ve saved my life, neither of us can weasel out of it - you’re an honorary Stark from now on.”

Peter opened his mouth but couldn’t find any words, he just stood there gaping like a fish. _An honorary Stark?_ A warm feeling spread through his chest, but along with it came insecurity and he blurted out: “I didn’t really do all that much...”

“Neither did I,” Mr. Stark’s face was the picture of false modesty. “I only snapped my fingers - how uncool is that?” Peter wanted to say that snapping one’s fingers with the _Infinity Stones_ was pretty awesome, but Mr. Stark continued, “You try to explain that to the girls though. Morgan even drew a picture of you wielding the Time Stone and put it above her bed. You are a bit green-faced in it if you ask me, but heroic as hell.”

Peter glanced to the side, where Iron Girl and Iron Hawk were each hanging off of one of Happy’s arms and laughing like crazy as he swung them around. “How does she know how I look like?”

The look Mr. Stark gave him was a bit sheepish. “We kinda have your photo in the kitchen. In my defense - you were dead.”

Peter didn't have to ask what that meant. “You... missed me?” The warm feeling spread even farther. Peter had missed Mr. Stark terribly over the past months. It felt good to hear that it was true the other way around as well.

“Nah, that’s where I put on display the photos of all my interns,” Mr. Stark's expression appeared serious but his eyes betrayed a very different emotion. Then he smirked and patted Peter’s shoulder. “Sure I missed you, you menace! Who else would snark at me so? Now come before the cavalry arrives to drag you into the house by force.”

When they opened the main door, a cacophony of merry voices and the fragrance of freshly baked cookies beckoned them inside. Behind them, Happy turned helplessly in a circle, his arms full of squealing children, his face that of a martyr. Aunt May doubled over with laughter as her boyfriend mouthed _‘Save me!’_ at her.

All was right with Peter’s world again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: a visit from Asgard.


End file.
